


What We Owe to Each Other

by CasualCazz



Series: 350 Milestone Fics [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Usage, Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Angst, Drama, Drinking, Drunken anger, Hollywood AU, Hurt/Comfort, KH Swapfell, M/M, PuppyMoney, Swapfell Papyrus (Undertale), Swapfell Sans (Undertale), papcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 09:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15969113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasualCazz/pseuds/CasualCazz
Summary: Money is an assistant to famous movie star, Rus, but he's at his limit with his boss's childish behavior.(Prompt 17- Hollywood Star and their Assistant)





	What We Owe to Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my on my [tumblr ](http://www.casualbones.tumblr.com)

Rus chucks the expensive empty champagne bottle across the room, shattering it against the decorated white wall. His face flushed a deep orange and he angrily huffs as he repeats the same motion with another bottle. Rus balls his fists and holds his head, screaming in utter rage as the tension builds up inside him. He slumps to his knees and bang on the wet marbled floor, the sea of glass surrounding his hands like a pool and cutting deep into his bones. Those will scar for sure, but Rus doesn’t care. His whole “persona” is the handsome, rugged, actor anyway, so he knows his agent wouldn’t bat an eye over his injuries. Rus flicks his wrists to fling the blood away as he leans back on the legs of his couch, breathing heavily and burying his head into his knees.

A burst of light opens up in his hotel room from the hallway, then immediately closes. Money, Rus’s personal assistant, comes in holding his clipboard and flinches at the sight before him. Another breakdown from his boss. Money has come to expect moment like these, and has gotten use to them by now. He sighs and goes into the kitchen to retrieve the first aid kit and approaches the super star without fear. He roughly grabs Rus’s hands and starts bandaging it up, silently seething in annoyance, but he dares not express it. He wonders what lead to the tantrum this time. He guesses his rock star boyfriend dumped him. About time. Money always thought Grillby was too good for this impulsive man baby. 

Rus doesn’t even flinch when Money silently grabs his hands. He could feel the irritation rolling off of his assistant in waves, but at this point, he doesn’t care. They’ve been through so much together, and Money has seen Rus at his worst states, but he’s always been there. Rus just doesn’t give a damn anymore. 

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself,” Money breaks the silence, his tone exhausted, “You’re going to get hurt one day.” 

“Whatever,” Rus growls and reaches up to grab a beer on the coffee table.  Money instantly swipes it  and pushes him on the ground to keep him away, “Hey! Give that back!” 

“No!” Money gets up, holds the bottle in the air, and yelps as Rus grabs his legs, “Will you just act like a goddamn adult for once!” 

“You,” Rus slams into Money’s body, not to hurt him, but to throw him off balance, and takes back his prize, “are a terrible assistant.” 

“And you’re a shitty boss,” Money snaps, and throws his hands up in the air in frustration.

Rus takes a big swing of his drink and drunkenly slurs, “I should fire you. You’re fucking ungrateful. You should be glad that you’re working for me! Rus Swapfell! Eight time academy award winner! But instead, you’re just lazy and mean. You’re worthless. You can never do anything right. You don’t deserve anything good, much less me.” 

Money takes a deep breath and rubs his hand on his head, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. He looks down at the poor, drunken man before him and suddenly realized his lack of pity or even care for him.

“You don’t need to fire me, because I quit,” Money says. Rus blinks and opens his mouth to speak, but the assistant cuts him off, “Do you want to know why everybody in your life leaves you? Because you hurt them. You’re too selfish and immature to even realize that you project your insecurities onto them. I took this job because I use to admire you, but now? You don’t even have my respect. Goodbye Rus. And good luck.”

“Money wait!”

But he was already out the door, leaving Rus alone in the dark, surrounded by broken glass, blood, and heartbreaking regret. He holds the half empty bottle in his hand, but sets it on the table instead of taking another gulp. For the first time since his childhood, the hollywood star curls up in himself and lets the tears fall down his cheeks, revealing the stained fantasy he held onto for so long.

Seven months later, Money settles in his springy couch inside his run down apartment with a bowl of freshly made popcorn on his lap. His brother, Grape, fiddles with a fidget spinner beside him, not really paying attention to Money as he flips through the TV programs. Outside, the rainstorm thunders quietly, with the winds howling and the drops pittering against his condensated windows. Money munches on his snacks when a familiar program comes on. Glittering gold lights and a crowd cheers excitedly for the famous speaker on stage, announcing some kind of award. With nothing else to watch, Money settles with the program, and leans back into the cushions. 

“And the Oscar for Best Action Film Actor is…” the host pauses dramatically, “Rus Swapfell!”

The audience erupts into a fanatic applause as Rus strolls onto stage, with a dashing black tuxedo and orange tie. He flashes his award winning smile and wave to the crowd, with multiple women in the front swooning over his charm. On the other side of the screen, Money’s heart aches and he picks up the remote to change the channel, but Grape stops him.

“IsN’t ThAt ThE gUy YoU UsE tO wOrK fOr?” he asks.

Money nods.

“I wAnNa WaTcH!”

Money sighs and drops the remote. He watches silently as he stuffs his face with popcorn.

Rus approaches the podium and lowers his hand to settle down the crowd. Once it’s silent, he pulls out his speech cards (that Money wrote for him a year ago) and takes a deep breath.

“Wow, I want to thank you all my fans for making this happen. I seriously owe you all a  _skele-ton,_ ” the audience laughs and Rus continues, “I want to give a personal shoutout to my friends, my family, and…”

Rus stops and returns the notecards to his jacket. Only the occasional coughs and whispers amongst the audience could be heard.  Money leans in closer to the TV curiously, his bone brows furrowing in concern.

“I want to dedicate this award to someone I’m entirely grateful for… and owe an apology to.” Rus closes his eyes and centers himself, then looks directly into the camera, “You see, when you’re an actor, you never stop acting.  You suppress your feelings deeper and deeper then smile for the camera because to the public, you’re perfect. And you always have to be perfect. But that’s no excuse for how I treated you. I was horrible, and I said some pretty shitty stuff that I wish I can take back. I was too blind to realize how much you’ve done for me, and how much you’ve meant to me. I do hope that you forgive me one day, but I understand if you don’t. I owe it to you to become better, because it’s not about being perfect to the world, it’s about being perfect to you. I am so sorry that I missed out on that chance.”

The audience sits there in shocked silence, then one person stands up, and starts clapping. Like a wave, everyone else stands up and applauses, with several whoops and whistles mixed in. Rus gasps, wide eyed at the sudden standing ovation, and sheds a single tear. He chuckles and wipes it away, waving goodbye to the lights and camera as he exits the stage, with his award in hand.

Money sits there in silence, his emotions clashing with hope and emptiness. A big, scary part of him wants him to believe that the speech was aimed at him, but it’s more likely that he was addressing a former lover or friend. Rus would never feel that way about Money. He was only his assistant. Nothing more. He can’t set himself up for heartbreak by wondering and agonizing over this. Still, it stays in the back of his head and torments him.

His salvation comes after he tucks Grape into bed, and he settles into his own. A light from his phone flashes him awake, and he reaches for it, swiping it open. His heart stops when he sees the notification from Rus, and his thumb hovers over the button, fear stopping him completely. A knot forms in his soul and his vision blurs with dizziness, but he taps on it anyway.

All it said were two simple words.

“Come back.”

Money doesn’t hesitate.

“Okay.”


End file.
